


Always in your heart

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur's a good bro, Canon Era, Dragonlord Merlin (Merlin), F/M, Good Morgana (Merlin), Honestly just let him be hugged, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Love Confessions, Magic, Mild Sexual Content, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Picnics, Protective Merlin, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:26:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25355476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: When Arthur sneaks out to follow his manservant, he doesn't expect what he finds.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Mithian (Merlin)
Comments: 45
Kudos: 183





	1. Lovers

‘We should not be doing this.’ Lancelot stated, but Arthur ignored him. Pushing further into the trees, watching as Merlin dismounted the horse and tied it to the tree. Over the past month, Merlin had been growing distant. More distant that after his Magic had been revealed, worse than when Morgana returned to Camelot.

‘What’s Merlin hiding from us?’ Arthur asked the Knight, knowing that he knew. Hell, Arthur was pretty sure Sir Gwaine knew as well, but neither was willing to break Merlin’s trust.

Sure enough, Lancelot bowed his head in regret, and Arthur turned his attention back to his manservant. He had spread out a blanket, reached for the hamper that Arthur was pretty sure he had stolen, and Arthur had to conclude he was meeting a woman.

Well, why hadn't Merlin told him? It was perfectly fine that he was courting a Lady! Arthur might give him some more time off, increase his pay a little to try and support a family.

‘This is fine! Why wouldn’t Merlin tell me he was…’ Arthur halted mid-question, because a horse was approaching. The Lady was dressed in a heavy cloak, thick furred with the hood up, Merlin rushing to her side to help her dismount. A flash of golden in his eyes, the horse’s reins tying to the tree in front. So, she also knew of his Magic. Was that what it was? Did she also have Magic?

‘Is she a Lady of nobility?’ Sir Leon whispered, peeking out from behind the bush to stare. Arthur had to agree, the horse looked well-kept, and her furs suggested wealth.

‘Or married?’ Elyan added in, Lancelot sighing and hanging his head like he regretted this entire thing. Gwaine was oddly quiet, before he looked to the group.

‘We should go. It’s Merlin’s secret to tell.’ Arthur ignored his Knight, focusing on where Merlin was leading the woman towards the blanket. His hands reached for her hood, and Arthur found himself leaning forward.

Oh.

Oh no, poor Merlin.

**

Merlin lowered her hood, watched as she smiled up to him.

‘Thank you, Merlin.’ Her hands reached for the clip, undid it and let Merlin catch it as it fell. Underneath, she was wearing a gown of purple, her hair braided into a plait suitable for riding.

‘My Lady.’ He took her hand, helped her settle down onto the blanket beneath.

Princess Mithian’s eyes lit up when he handed her a goblet from the basket, filled it with nothing more than his eyes changing colour. She chuckled, tipped her goblet to his.

‘A toast.’ He agreed, it was about time that they celebrate.

‘What to, my Lady?’

‘To the Warlock that keeps saving my life.’ She teased, and Merlin blushed. He had, admittedly, been messing in Nemeth’s affairs more than he should have been.

‘To the Princess that has a habit of stumbling into danger.’ He shot back, watched the mischief play across her features as they drank. He concentrated on the blanket, let the food appear in different plates in front. All the things he knew she adored, the sweetest of treats and finely roasted meats, fruits that had been preserved and strawberries fresh from the gardens.

‘Oh my… Merlin, it’s perfect. Thank you.’ He smiled, used one of the forks to stab at one of the cheeses that had been made. He rose it to her lips, watched as she took it happily. Chewed, her eyes widening.

‘Is this the King’s own?’ She asked, knowing him far too well.

‘Better, made of my Magic.’ With Mithian, there was no need to pretend he wasn’t powerful. He was allowed to be himself, could tease and brag and laugh. Mithian shuffled closer, until she could rest her head on his shoulder.

‘I missed you, Merlin. As did the King. Have you thought any more on my offer?’ Merlin halted, tensing up enough for her to draw back. The Princess was waiting, but Merlin could not give her the answer she wanted.

‘Mithian… I will always be Arthur’s manservant. I have to be by his side.’

‘I’m offering you the position of Court Sorcerer, Merlin. A position powerful enough to become my husband. The next King of Nemeth.’ He knew that. King Rodor had tried to convince Merlin that he was much better suited there, but he knew it couldn’t be. Arthur was his Destiny, and the moment he tried to leave the King’s side for Mithian, she would end up hurt. Or worse.

‘I cannot give you the answer you want.’ She sighed, took his fingers and rose them to her lips. Her lips were soft, pressed to the callouses that proved him unworthy.

‘My Merlin. Whatever would I do without you?’ He could tell the food was going to come later, made it vanish with nothing more than a flick of his hand, let the back of his fingers brush along her cheek.

‘Find a worthy husband?’ He questioned, but Mithian shook her head.

‘I’d abandon it all, just to be yours.’ He knew that, which was why he couldn’t ask.

‘You’ll be the greatest Queen Nemeth’s ever seen.’

‘Only Nemeth?’ She remarked, linking their fingers together and moving closer. She smelt of roses, of honey and bathing oils and the most beautiful things.

‘You know I could never forget my loyalty to Camelot’s Queen.’ Mithian’s head tilted to the side, her lips close enough to his that he could almost imagine what they felt like. This was dangerous, they had never quite got this close to breaking courting boundaries.

‘But I’d be your Queen.’

‘My Queen.’ He replied, and Mithian’s smile grew. It suited her, before she pulled back, cleared her throat awkwardly.

‘Forgive me, I overstep my boundaries.’ Merlin looked to the sky, pleaded for someone to help him resist the charm of the woman in front.

‘The fault is mine, my Lady. I’d never want to sour your name.’ By kissing her, by stealing that from her when she deserved so much better.

He envied Arthur. The Prince could take only noble Lady to bed, even a Princess, as long as he was careful enough not to get her with child. Merlin had no such luxury, had to act like the gentleman, rather than kissing her like he wanted to.

‘Is it destined that I lose all that I could have to Arthur Pendragon?’ Mithian was joking, but the truth underneath made him ache. Mithian could have been Queen of Camelot, and he’d have had to bow down to her even with his heart breaking.

‘Arthur may have my head, and my Magic, but you have my heart.’ It was the truth, and Mithian’s dark eyes filled with tears.

‘Oh, my Merlin, enough of the Pendragons. Tell me, how are you?’ Her head came to rest on his lap, his hand drifting to her hair as he summoned a plate of strawberries, plucked one up with his free hand and offered it to her.

‘Well, thank you, my Lady.’ She took it from his fingers with her teeth, biting down into the fruit and chewing.

‘And the Lady Morgana?’ She knew this was one of his favourite topics to discuss, the Lady Morgana’s return to Camelot and her changing Destiny.

‘Progressing with her studies every day. She thinks me a harsh teacher, but she is a good pupil. Quick to learn.’ Her hair was softer than any he’d had the pleasure of touching, thick yet smooth like silk as he worked it out of the riding braid.

‘And your hatchling?’

‘Growing every day. The next time I have a day free, I’ll see if I can convince Aithusa to bring me to Nemeth. I’d love for you to meet him.’ She laughed as he offered out another strawberry, lips slightly stained from the juice.

‘Me! Meeting a Dragon, you honestly live such a life, Merlin.’ He rolled his eyes, let his thumb brush over her temple. Soft skin, cared for with the most expensive products.

‘And what of Nemeth? How fairs your lands?’ A flicker of doubt, worry crossing her face.

‘At peace, mostly. The Druids are supporting us, and the nobles are satisfied that I could rule as Queen, especially with our treaties. My Father suggested a tournament, to draw in the Knights from Albion. I think he hopes it would make you jealous enough to say yes to us.’ The thought of a Knight, heavy-handed and rough and not at all seeing the woman that Mithian really was, made Merlin’s heart tighten. He grimaced, forced himself to relax.

‘Considering the Knights of Camelot have a habit of winning, I’d think it would be one of them that fought for your honour.’ Which one would win? Which one of them would have the chance to win Mithian’s heart?

‘I think, from all that you’ve told me, I’d like Sir Lancelot. Noble, honourable, yet loyal to Arthur.’ Merlin hummed in agreement, eating one of her strawberries.

‘Lancelot would admire your quick wit, my Lady. But I think the meeting I’d adore the most would be you and Sir Gwaine.’ Mithian laughed, free and uncaring, her eyes twinkling.

‘He seems like such a flirt! And he’d probably bed you, had you not told him of me.’ True, on all accounts. Merlin laughed along with her, before she caught his hand as it went for a strawberry.

‘May I see your Magic, my love?’ The nickname burned, but he nodded. She sat up slowly, hair falling around her shoulders in rough curls that he adored. He refused to take his eyes off of her, let his fingers curl up and then relax, a butterfly flickering to life. Dark blue, glowing with Magic as it took to the sky. Others followed, fluttering around the Queen-to-be and Mithian stood, giggled as she let her arms stretch out.

Stunning. The most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. A girl, finally free to dance in a storm of butterflies.

Merlin caught her when she stumbled, unsure of when he’d risen to his feet. She laughed, hands hitting his shoulders to steady herself, the butterflies continuing to wrap around the two of them.

‘Merlin?’ She whispered, gaze flicking from his golden eyes to his lips, and the Warlock forced his heart to calm.

‘My Lady?’ In the glow of his Magic, she looked like an angel. No, more than that, she looked like a Goddess.

‘Kiss me.’ He should have said no, told her that it would be such a bad idea. He reached for her cheek, her arms moving to wrap around his neck.

Brief, nothing more than brushing his lips over hers, but it wasn’t enough. He kissed her properly, with all the love and adoration he held for her. Soft, plush lips that parted into a sigh, Merlin swallowing the sound down and slowly lowering her back to the blanket. Dainty fingers gripped into his jacket, dragged him down until he was on top of her, pinning a future Queen to the ground.

‘No thinking.’ She stated firmly, brushing her nose against his in confirmation.

‘No thinking.’ He agreed, before ducking his head back to hers.

**

Mithian curled to his chest, fingers tracing over the dusting of hair. Merlin looked down to her, kept a hand playing in her hair as she pulled the fur cloak up over them.

‘That was…’

‘Surprising?’ Merlin asked, listening to her laughter as she snuggled closer to him.

‘Yes, but incredible.’ He grinned, couldn’t hide his smile as he tucked her closer. Goddess, he wanted to accept her offer, to leave Arthur’s side. She could be his Destiny, his wife. His everything, he’d lay down his life for her.

‘I’m keeping that compliment.’ He promised her, Mithian slowly moving to straddle his naked hips and sitting up, the furs falling to her waist. His eyes roamed, the dark curls covering her chest, the skin that he wanted to explore for a lifetime.

‘You should. That mouth’s not just good for Magic.’ She teased, and Merlin watched as her hand tracked up his chest, nails tracing patterns into his skin.

‘Mm, but let me show you what happens when I include Magic.’ He stated, flipping them over and listening to her squeal as he disappeared under the furs. She arched her back, legs spreading to accommodate him as he lowered his head.

‘Oh Merlin, you’ve ruined me for any other.’ He chuckled, let her fingers curl into his hair as he pecked the inside of her thigh.

‘I can assure you, my Lady, the feeling is mutual.’ And with that, Merlin showed her just what his Magic could do.


	2. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's floating, until it comes crashing down

Arthur had left, the moment he watched Merlin and Mithian drop back to the blanket. It was wrong, to be intruding so much, he already felt like he’d broken Merlin’s trust. Listening to the words shared, to the promises made between them…

Merlin could have been King. But he declined, like it was a simple offer, not the chance of being royalty. Arthur had seen Mithian’s heart crack open, and had wanted to shake Merlin, to tell him not to be such an idiot. Instead, he had no choice but to watch as they disagreed, as the couple that were obviously in love accepted that they could not be together.

They were at training three days later, and Arthur was watching Merlin’s bright smile. It was clear that the kiss had gone further than it should, from the spring in Merlin’s step as he polished Arthur’s amour. From the constant happiness over the past days, unlike the secretive Merlin from before.

His Knights were just as unsure on how to address the situation, looked to Arthur to bring it up.

‘You’re in a cheerful mood recently, Merlin.’ Like his manservant hadn't hid the fact he was a Dragonlord, or that he was casually trying to court the Princess of Nemeth, or any of the rest of the things that Arthur hadn't known. His own sister, being taught by Merlin?

‘Just enjoying the quiet, Sire.’ He lied, Arthur wondering how best to bring it up. Did he just admit to Merlin that he had followed him?

‘You’re always chatting.’ The King grumbled, to which Merlin smirked.

‘If you missed me that much, Arthur…’ He responded by placing the hand on the pommel of his sword, daring Merlin to finish that sentence. Most would shut up, would look slightly afraid, but Merlin just snorted with laughter, rolling his eyes like Arthur was the least threatening thing he’d ever seen.

Why did Merlin not go to Nemeth? Why did he not take the position as Court Sorcerer, rise up so that he could be with the woman he loved? Yes, Arthur would miss him. He hated to admit it, but with Merlin gone, he’d lose a good friend.

He was about to ask the obvious question, but his attention was drawn away by a shout.

‘Sire!’ A Knight was coming across the grounds, red-faced and panting slightly, halting and struggling to bow in the sweltering heat.

‘What is it?’

‘Riders from Nemeth, Sire, spotted on the outer boundary.’ The mention of the Kingdom had Merlin’s head snapping up, and Arthur nodded.

‘Very well. When they arrive, send them to the throne room.’ The Knight bowed once more, while Arthur turned to Merlin.

But the manservant had gone back to polishing, as if he wasn’t bothered by the news. It made Arthur wonder how much Merlin could hide without anyone noticing.

**

Merlin stayed at Arthur’s side, as usual, when the Knights walked in. Three of them, dressed in the standard colour with the emblem of Nemeth. The Warlock was curious, he had to admit. Did King Rodor need something? No, he had a way of communicating with Merlin if he needed to, he’d have used it.

Heh, he was becoming a King-whisperer. Helping the Kings of Albion deal with their issues. Maybe he should start a therapy session for them?

‘King Arthur.’ The Lead Knight spoke, the others bowing. Merlin thought the emblem rather pretty, would have worn it, had he not belonged to Camelot.

‘What news do you bring of Nemeth? Is King Rodor well?’ In truth, Merlin was back to dreaming of their night together. He had seen Mithian off long before sunrise, kissed her cheek and told her he would write to her as soon as he dared. In the past three days, he’d been living on the high of that night, of holding Mithian close to him.

‘It is the Princess, your Grace.’ Merlin blinked back his stupor, staring at the Knight in confusion. Mithian? What could she have…

‘She was found dead this morning, my Lord. An arrow through her chest.’

If Merlin had been anywhere but in the view of the Round Table Knights and the King, he would have screamed. He would have let his Magic burst, splitting apart the whole of Albion apart at those words.

Instead, Merlin did what he always did. Swallowed down the pain, clenched his fists tight enough that he felt the skin split. He could hold it in, just for a little longer, just long enough to get away from Arthur.

It felt like agony.

‘Dead?’ Arthur breathed out, looking to Merlin briefly, who stared at the wall.

_It was all his fault._

‘Yes, my Lord. The King requests your presence…’ As Nemeth’s main ally, it made sense.

_He’d killed the Princess, just by letting himself love her._

‘Of course. We will ride out immediately.’ The Knight bowed once more, rising up, and Merlin refused to look at him. At anyone.

Oh Goddess, Mithian was _dead._

The Knights turned to leave, and Merlin finally risked a step forward.

‘Merlin…’ Arthur began, but the Warlock cut him off.

‘I’ll prepare your bag, Sire.’

**

Merlin did not speak. He didn’t dare to do so, not when he could hear Freya calling to him, and Arthur’s questioning looks focused on him. They rode quicker than they ever had before, and Merlin suspected Arthur knew something about him and Mithian. Had Lancelot or Gwaine told him? They kept trying to catch his eye, to draw his attention, but Merlin would not risk it with the Knights of Nemeth with them.

His Princess, dead.

The blood, as usual, was on his hands. Because he had, just for the smallest of moments, imagined accepting her proposal. Of going to Nemeth by her side, and being able to express his love for her.

The King was not in the Castle, when they arrived. He had picked an old Temple, which belonged to the Old Gods, in which to meet Arthur. Merlin did nothing but follow his King, staring at Rodor as he greeted Arthur, red-rimmed eyes and words of how she had been riding through one of the Villages when the shot had been taken.

The Princess lay on the altar at the front, the room empty apart from the few that the King needed to protect him.

Merlin left Arthur’s side, then. Stepped around him, and moved towards his Princess. She looked like a ghost, skin pale and hands clasped over her stomach, a dark patch of red on the otherwise bright green dress. Her furs were darkened with blood, hair a mess, and her eyes had not yet been shut. Glassy, looking to the ceiling like she was staring to the Heavens.

Even dead, Mithian was a Goddess. Far above his station, too heavenly for him to touch.

_Was he being punished?_

‘Lord Emrys,’ Rodor began, looking to Merlin, and the Warlock realised he was crying. Hot tears, spilling down his cheeks and desecrating the floor of the Temple.

This was his fault.

‘Merlin.’ Arthur said, but Merlin did not turn to him. He refused Arthur, the very man he was designed to obey, all for the woman in front.

He would not lose another to Destiny. Merlin looked around the Temple briefly, let his Magic sink into the ground below his feet. This place was powerful, far more so than anywhere he’d been other than the Lake, and the Valley of the Fallen Kings.

‘Please.’ He whispered, taking a step towards the altar. Another, until he could look down at her.

‘You can’t take her from me.’ He reached for her hand, cold skin against his.

‘I’d give anything.’ Arthur went to walk to him, but it was Gwaine that gripped the King’s arm. Merlin ignored them, all of them, and reached for the wound.

It would have been painful, for it had not quite hit her heart. Buried into her skin, and she’d have toppled from her horse, hitting the ground. A fallen angel, bleeding out while her Guards tried to protect her.

She died _alone_ , on the ground in the Kingdom she did not want to rule alone, because Merlin had left her.

Did she call for him?

‘Goddess, hear my prayer.’ Closing both hands over the wound, he concentrated on all the Magic he could summon.

It rushed like fire, ached in his body as he pumped as much of his life into her as he could. Outside, the sky had darkened dramatically, the Temple beginning to rumble under his feet as he tore apart the natural balance of the earth. Breaking all the rules, things he had lectured Morgana on, just because he could not survive without her.

He would not lose another love.

‘ _Gyden,_ _êðian b_ _æc wi_ _ðinnan m_ _în lufu.’_

_Goddess, breathe life back into my love._

He did not mean to shout the words, but he was fighting against the quickly fading energy that he had inside. He could feel it, burning through him as his hands glowed, healing the wound that had killed her.

_‘Selen hiere of h_ _ê m_ _în und_ _êadlicnes, stefnian s_ _în m_ _în m_ _æcca.’_

_Gift her my immortality, make her my equal._

He was aware that Arthur was shouting for him, but Merlin did not break, not until he felt it.

A beat, under his hands, followed by a second one. Merlin drew back his hands, looked to the window in front, to the storm that had been summoned as he tried to bring back the dead.

No, not tried.

Mithian gasped, chest arching up towards the darkened sky as she bolted upright, Merlin catching her with ease. Alive, a frantic pulse and hands that were shaking, lips moving but garbled words falling from them.

‘Mithian, Mithian! Look at me!’ Her cheeks were soft, stained in tears as she clutched at him.

He’d done it.

Rodor was sobbing, came stumbling forward as Merlin backed away, allowing the two to embrace. Mithian was crying, but she was alive, cheeks flushed and her chest heaving as she scrambled off the stone.

The Warlock laughed, because he had finally done it, he’d finally beaten destiny.

The ache in his head was unlike anything he’d ever felt, raising a hand to his nose only to find his finger stained a dark red.

_‘Merlin, come to the Lake. You need healing, the both of you.’_

The Warlock looked to the stormy sky outside, understanding that they would need assistance to make it to the Lake while the Magic was fresh. He moved past Arthur, who was stuck with a slack jaw, staring at Mithian in shock. The Knights didn’t look much better, stared at Merlin like they had never seen him before.

He made it to the grass, sunk down to his knees and let his fingers dig into the earth, trying to soak back up all the energy that had spilled out.

‘ _Drakon_!’ He called to the skies, listened to the clouds rumble in response.

He would not let Destiny control his heart any longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's saying Fuck Destiny and I'm onboard for the ride


	3. Reborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mithian and Merlin get a new look

Mithian laughed, let her hands stretch out to the clouds on either side, knowing that she would not fall. That her lover would not let her, so she was free to tip her head back, to finally be free. It was on the descent that she gasped, clinging to the man in front, hearing Merlin chuckle as the white Dragon lowered them down to the ground.

The Lake was gorgeous, the stormy skies overhead shown in the reflection, and the Princess took another step.

Yesterday, she had been shot through the chest while riding, and had fallen to the dirt knowing she would not live to see Merlin again. Now, with the sun beginning to rise and Merlin standing behind her, Mithian knew that she would never have to live in fear again. That, finally, she had somebody that had sacrificed the world for her.

‘Allow me.’ Merlin’s hands moved to her cape, which she allowed, holding still as it was stripped from her.

She had woken on the cold stone, felt the Magic around her like she did when Merlin had summoned the butterflies. Her father had been crying, and Arthur Pendragon had looked like someone had resurrected from the dead, which she quickly found out was true.

Merlin was the one she moved to, standing by the Dragon outside the Temple. He had explained to her Father that she needed to be immersed in the waters of the Lake, that he would keep her safe. Her Father had been too busy staring at the Dragon to really comprehend the sentence, and Merlin had reached for her hand.

Now, there were nimble fingers untying the dress she had worn for her ride, the same dress that she had died in.

He did not remove the fabric, merely loosened it, which confused her. He knelt down in front of her, took her boots off carefully, then rose up.

‘My Lady, once you do this… you’ll change.’ She knew that. The moment she woke up, gasping for air, she felt her body change. The warmth of Magic had not faded, it remained in her blood, and she could have sworn that she never felt stronger.

‘Into what?’ She inquired, tilting her head to look at the Lake. Merlin had told her of Freya, the once-Druid/Bastet that had been turned into a deity of the Lake.

‘I… I cannot be sure. I broke the rules, bringing you back. It’s changed both of us.’ She’d fallen in love with Merlin rather accidentally. He had saved her life, and for that, she had been grateful. Letters had been exchanged, and then she had asked if he would like to meet.

She wasn’t sure why she’d done it, only that she had never laughed harder in her life. Merlin’s goofy smile, the bright eyes and his quick-tongue, it had impressed her. Then came the Magic, the power, the prophecy that she had been told as a child. She took him to meet her Father, the King asking for his advice on how to properly welcome those with Magic to his Kingdom, and Merlin had spent the time to teach him.

Loving Merlin had, after that moment, been a given. Every waking thought was of him, every evening she would chatter to her maid about him. Her Warlock, and as of four days ago, her lover.

He was still the same Merlin. Apart from the gold that had not faded from his eyes, the power that rolled off of him in waves. Whatever he would become, whatever changed for the both of them when they walked into that Lake, she was more than ready to make that change.

‘Together.’ Merlin’s one rule had been that he had to serve Arthur, that it was his Destiny. The moment she was brought back to life, she had seen the shift in his attitude. That he was not going to let himself lose her, just because a prophecy tried to tell him so.

‘Always.’ He promised her, linking their fingers together.

The Lake was cold, the water slowly moving up as they waded in, side by side. It weighed down her dresses, her body shuddering at the changing temperature, but she did not falter. Only when it reached her chin did she pause, turning to look at Merlin. His height gave him the advantage here, but he looked just as nervous.

‘Ready?’ She could feel it, power beyond explaining, rushing through her veins already.

Merlin did not answer her question, merely turned to face her and brought their lips together, before he was tipping them to the side. The water was rushing over her, but she could not find it in her to care, not when Merlin’s lips were against hers.

**

The Lady of the Lake watched, hidden from sight, as Emrys rose from the water first. His clothing had changed, to better suit his rise to power, to connect him to the earth around him. Greens and browns, the silky-soft fabric that remained perfectly dry, despite the fact he was surrounded by water. He rose slowly, a crown of gold nestled onto black curls, moving out of the water and halting when he reached the shore.

Immediately, his Magic called to the earth around. Flowers of all colours and sizes began to bloom, the grass rushing up around his bare feet and the animals of the forest beginning to move forward, curious as to their new King.

Mithian rose second. The water broke around her pale frame, her body rising up as she moved towards Emrys, who looked back to her with the brightest smile. The Lady was dressed in similar colours, but where Emrys had gold, his Queen had silver. It lined her dresses, was the colour of the ink that stretched over her skin, ending along her jawline. It was the colour her eyes flashed, just momentarily, as she left the Lake of Avalon.

Upon her head, a crown of silver, and the Queen reached for Emrys’ hand.

Whether or not they realised what they had done, by making two Immortals that had powers beyond any other seen on the mortal earth before, Freya did not know. All she could conclude was that they had done it for love, and as they moved towards the Hatchling Dragon, the Forest bowed before them.

Not quite a God and a Goddess, but that was what they would be viewed as in History.

The Queen laughed, rejoicing as a tiny bluebird settled on the tip of her finger. Emrys was too busy watching, his fingers rising to trace along her cheek, before he drew her in for a kiss.

Around them, Albion bloomed.


End file.
